


Let the poison sink in and leave it’s mark

by narumei



Series: Money & Glory [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Violence, Bottom Qian Kun, Crimes & Criminals, Denial of Feelings, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Kissing, Love/Hate, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Beta Read, Organized Crime, Possessive Behavior, Pre-Relationship, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Stabbing, Top Dong Si Cheng | WinWin, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25605325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narumei/pseuds/narumei
Summary: They came from a long way, and Sicheng wanted him more than anything else. Because, just like Kun—who always got everything he wanted so easily. Sicheng had never been afraid to take and keep whathe thought; supposed to be his.
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Qian Kun
Series: Money & Glory [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855843
Comments: 3
Kudos: 58





	Let the poison sink in and leave it’s mark

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, finally part 2 is here!! Also I have been writing this yumark fanfic; I hope you all will look forward to it uwu
> 
> Beware of spelling/grammar errors!

Kun's body clashed hard against the wall behind him, rising an impactful pain on his back. Without being able to let out a groan of displeasure, his mouth had been silenced by a soft object that moved wildly sucking both of his lips. Kun's breath seemed to have been wrenched out of his lungs. His eyes closed tightly as he felt a rough stroke on the cleavage of his open lips. Stertorous, but he didn't want to stop it.

He scooped up the air very greedily after the link on his lips had been pulled away—apart with the saliva thread that hung faintly between their mouths. And as if that wasn't enough, the man before him now approached the side of his neck to put more kisses and marks on his skin.

Kun could only gritted his teeth, turning his face away, letting the man having more access of his neck.

The man got a hold on Kun's chin, slamming his head straight back against the wall. Kun let out a low hiss as he glared at the man before him. The man chuckled as he showed a crooked smile. "I love that reaction on your face." He spoke, voice low and heavy. He stared deeply into Kun's eyes.

_Fuck, this is bad._

As if he was being hypnotized by the man's dark eyes, Kun just paused and let the man kissed him greedily again. Kun could feel the other's tongue pushed deep into his mouth, down to every inch of the cavity, and without doubt sucking the saliva that was contained in his mouth.

"Sicheng, stop it." Kun spoke weakly, still with his little awareness. Kun tried to push the man by his shoulders when he felt a hand invading inside the clothing he was wearing, practically brushing against his bare skin.

Their link was released again, and Kun who was still gasping glowered at the man who just laughed softly at him.

Kun was warned about the drugs they would sell on the streets, the ones they could slip into his drink, and the ones that might became appealing to his eyes; however, they never prepared him for the one that came with a such dangerous smile.

"Break my rules and we'll see how you gonna regret it." Sicheng husked against his face. "Honestly, I really don't want to ruin that beautiful face of yours, Kun ge."

* * *

The universe had its own capability to correct the erroneous instrumentations within this odd, eccentric world.

Those that were written as yours, when they were gone, they could still be replaced by something more picturesque—usually by something even more beautiful. And those that were written as someone else's, when you tried to steal it, there's always a price you need to pay—usually by something bigger than your own life.

But really, if that's really true, would you really care?

The floating air felt a little colder that day, Kun took his time in reviewing the last 'document' Sicheng had sent him. Nothing unusual about it. It was just about another pretentious asshole who bragged about his power and connection, when in reality—the man had none of it. Everyone had left him to dirt, he was nothing more than a street rat. His kingdom had fallen long before the war even started.

 _How boring_ , Kun thought to himself. The way the private journalist had written about him, the language and the way they portrayed him as, it was all over the place—exaggerated and too over-play. _What the fuck was Yangyang doing?_ Kun sighed. It was definitely Sicheng. His twisted way of viewing another individual as something—a merchant of entertainment.

Kun would never understand how that man's brain function, but for the time being; Kun decided to just play along.

Vengeance, retaliation, retribution, revenge are deceitful brothers—vile, beguiling demons promising justifiable compensation to a pained soul for his losses. Yet in truth they craftily fester away all else of worth remaining.

They were solely a species who had nothing but flaw within them. Everyone could be a perfectionists, but that's just how they _act_. They knew, none of them were actually perfect — yet each of them still wanted to be viewed as an unblemished, impeccable individual.

Kun Qian wasn't a good man—a good intellectual, probably the best one here—but he could never be a good man. Cold hearted and imperious, he rarely cared about the peons around him – only the achievement of his dreams and all the successful layouts mattered to him. He only trusted those who were worthy in his eyes. People depended and expected a lot from him.

They called Kun as the high and mighty.

The malevolent mastermind, he loved to show off his superior intelligence. Intellectual inferiors were contemptible to him and that included just about everyone.

He was a kind man, but how kind this man truly was? Just because he was an obedient individual; who always willing to listen to his boss — Kun was still someone threatening in the organization. He could betray them, backstab them heartlessly. Everything was always in his favor — smooth and easy. Betrayal seemed always so close.

Kun governed over this territory, this division, this organization. Blood never touched his hands, his underlings would always be there to cover for him. All he had to do was say the word. He was like a dictator in a way, but he was no ordinary dictator — and due to that reason alone, no one dared enough to oppose his orders as he was Sicheng's own personal right hand man. Someone had to do what was necessary when others were too incompetent to do their job, they needed someone like Kun on their side to survive; an organization like this would never last long without a good, functional _role_ — being played by their side. This clan needed him.

Standing against the ivory tide, under that beauteous surface, he was trying to pave their way to success. He was not _absolutely_ crazy about power like Sicheng, but of course — only the dumb weaklings would say; power isn't a necessity in your daily life. When you wanna live happily and leisurely, you need power to back you up. You need strengths that always get a hold on to your side.

Kun only needed two things in his life, wisdom and power.

He was good at knowing the necessities that he truly desired in this life, and even better at getting it. Kun was a genius, probably since birth — as for power, all he needed to do was work for it. _Every hard works would be paid off eventually_ , that was what the tale he always believed in. Even if that meant he had to sacrifice someone, Kun still wouldn't give a fuck. Usually when he did the killings, Kun would always end up using something to cover his hands. According to him, apparently his skin was too precious to be spilled and touched by something so dirty.

Then, it was time for Sicheng to come into the picture.

Unlike the high and mighty Kun, Sicheng was like a cageless animal. Gallant and quite ill-tempered, he was a man who always sticked to his words. When Sicheng set his mind on something — _he would do anything_. Sicheng was a brutal man. Blood always on his hand, and violence was his only way of surviving. Sicheng hated something so digressing; he rather did things his way in the most efficient and simplistic way possible.

It was like a talent, an express talent for getting his way by revolting against everything and everyone else all at once. Then the next thing you know, the corpses were already collapsing near his feet, noticing after the fact that he had exploded like a time bomb, chastening each bodies he had come in contact with. The evidence was crystal clear; Sicheng was just fucking insane. He was too bold and careless.

Without Kun, he could easily go havoc — ruining all the constructed system that had been made for each individuals here. He acted on impulse, uncaring for all the consequences which might strike against him. He would kill without any kind of remorse.

He burnt with resentment. When Sicheng couldn't have what he wanted, he lashed out to hurt those around him. His deeds were often for effect—he wanted to provoke action in others. He always proudly announced his rebellious dealings.

The way his sharp teeth always baring when his expression flipped into something maniacal and crazed. He always looked as if he's having so much _fun_.

Sicheng made his entrance quite late. Kun heard the door to his office being swung open more loudly than the usual. The older lad didn't turn to look, he didn't acknowledge him. Sicheng didn't even knock on his door, and Kun didn't have time to play around with him. Kun knew it was him by hearing that deep, kinda monotonous voice. Kun stopped typing on his laptop when he smelled something acrid, an odor. He finally lifted his gaze. In one moment, Kun let out a soft laugh as he clapped his hands for a few seconds. Sicheng gave a sardonic look at Kun, his clothes were a bloody mess, his right hand still had that fresh-looking droplets flowing lazily to the floor.

"So? What did you do this time, Sicheng?" Kun grinned, propping his chin in the palm of his right hand. "Do you want to request more cleaners to take care after your mess?"

Sicheng snorted annoyedly. "No, it's fine. I told Lucas to take care of the rest."

Kun nodded. "Then, is there anything else I can help you with? After all, you're not supposed to be here at this time of day. You still have some work to do."

"I don't know, I just felt like going here." Sicheng flashed him that charming smile. "I wanted to see you."

"Why? Because I'm the best possession you could ever have and see?" Kun teased.

"As much as I want to treat all of my beloved and important possessions equally," Sicheng walked closer. "That word, _possession_ , doesn't suit you at all, Kun ge. To me you're more meaningful than that."

Kun felt something snapping right through him, it was icy and dangerous.

"Aren't you afraid I might betray you one day?" He dared to ask.

Sicheng showed a wicked smirk. "Why? Are you planning to run away from me?"

_Run away?_

"Who knows," Kun simply answered.

"What? Do you really think I'd let you escape that easily?" Sicheng chuckled calmly.

Kun swallowed hard on his spit.

Both Kun and Sicheng were two different individuals. The way they think, the way they use their methods, and the way they see the world — everything was too different.

Kun was like a solid pedestal; he always had everything under his control — everyone was nothing more than a mere of puppet. He was canny and mindful, only worked for something beneficial and profound for his own party. As for Sicheng, he was like an embodiment of a timebomb — we could never know when he would explode. He was brutal and forward, always clear about what he liked and disliked.

Sicheng was more unpredictable than Kun had expected him to be. When you first take a look at him, at the beginning he seemed so serene, calm and levelheaded—but then the next thing you knew, he had already jumped to counterattack his enemies around him like the maniac he was.

It would be a lie that Kun didn't feel the slightest fear toward Sicheng. Sure, Kun was used to take control over him, telling him what he could do and couldn't do—but regardless of what he did for Sicheng, at the end, the man was still his superior and leader.

"I can't always play nice with you, Kun ge." Sicheng prompted, smiling at him. "I'm sure you know that too."

They came from a long way, and Sicheng wanted him more than anything else. Because, just like Kun—who always got everything he wanted so easily. Sicheng had never been afraid to take and keep what _he thought_ ; supposed to be his.

* * *

The dagger looked rather cold in his hand. It was short, but so sharp even the most gentle of touches to flesh would result in a free bleeding line. Sicheng would always describe the dagger as his personal piece of an equipment in his stage play. The handle was carved beautifully — there was some red-colored fluids running through the blade.

Sicheng held it tight, pushed it precisely against the enemy's chest—his expression exaggerated by the dark shadows around his eyes. He saw the way the enemy gasped in shock, their eyes were trembling. Red, crimson fluids were overflowing against their body. Sicheng clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction, his coat was already dirtied by the gliding blood from the enemy's chest.

He began twisting the strong blade even deeper, ignoring their outcry of pain. More blood splattering out, mild crimson liquids continued popping from the splitting flesh. The enemy's mouth was wide open, streaming out even more blood.

Kun yawned in boredom, leaning his back against the wooden wall. He could hear the gunshots echoed from outside. This was their lifestyle that had been filled with a bunch of actions and consequences. When you want more power, you have to make a sacrifice. When you want more money, you have to take the risk. When you want more authority, you have to make sure they respect you.

Sicheng was everything Kun had hoped to always protect. He was strong, honest, straightforward, and fearless. Honestly, Sicheng was the best stepping stone Kun could ever have. There's nothing more pleasurable than the taste of wealth and glory. Kun craved for _those essences_ —those powers he could get a hold on, even if it meant only for a moment.

But still, Kun had to be careful and much more critical, when it came to someone as dangerous as Sicheng. It wasn't easy to get control over him and his every moves. Nothing was easy when it came to this charming lunatic. And it was Kun's job to make sure Sicheng stayed flawless in the views of public.

Sicheng finally dragged out the silver dagger from the fallen corpse's chest — _adamant their failing heart beat would cease to beat soon_. Sicheng could already see their face drowning in a pool of darkening blood, his face split into an unbearing grin that had arched in a sickly way.

Kun watched him in silence. It was eerie and damnable. As if you're watching a horror movie being shot in front of your face. The blatant crimson liquids spreading against Sicheng's expensive clothes, there were even some droplets touching against his boots. His hair was a mess, a beautiful kind of mess—Kun couldn't look away, he _didn't_ want to. It was mesmerizing, a fascination—the way those bloods overflowing against him.

Kun nearly grimaced when he saw Sicheng started licking the bloodstained blade. Tasting that bittersweet, metallic flavor on his tongue. Kun had been working under him for more than five years, and yet, those bizarre antics Sicheng loved to show so much still managed to send shivers running down Kun's spine.

Sicheng let out a soft chuckle, carefully brushing his fingers over the open-wounded flesh on the corpse's body. Wetness had begun to seep through the fabric of his wristwatch. A few drops of blood trickled from the side of his palm. Oh, there was so much blood—dark crimson, with a discreet, metallic scent. It cascaded across the corpse's chest, right through Sicheng's fingertips.

"Aww, _too bad_. I liked this guy. He was a funny dude, a dumb weirdo." Sicheng made a comment as he finally stood up.

Kun watched as Sicheng passed through the bloody mess on the ground that had been his adversary. Suddenly Kun felt a cold air sliding down to the back of his neck, in under the tight-coiling collar, rolled icily over his spine. Sicheng had a glazed look on in his eyes, mirrored that much of an empty soul. There was a smile on his face, but the way those eyes had lingered on that body; there was nothing meaningful or special, only atrocity.

Sicheng's face didn't look bad, there wasn't even a cut or a bruise there. Kun could see some red droplets flowing lazily against the left side of his cheek. In the corner of Kun's vision, he saw the scarlet blood flowing into the corpse's lifeless eyes. Sicheng flashed him that childlike look, a sweet smile, as he stood before Kun.

"Let's go home," Sicheng spoke rather calmly—even after everything he had done.

* * *

Drinking a cold liquor in this time of day felt like the greatest luxury on earth. Kun wanted to calm his mind, functioning back his erupt thoughts. The ice fell against the glass, Kun's fingers sliding on the condensation before he picked up the drink. Sniffing, testing, he sighed in silence, quickly slurping through the contents. The burn of liquor that slid down Kun's throat finally relaxed his train of thoughts.

He kept seeing the grayscale smokes floating into the air, with the image of Sicheng tugging back the cigar between his lips; Kun decided to take another shot, sharp and burning, like it was a liquid of fire trying to drown and melt him in one go. Like the reverse of the winter time, when all he wanted was feeling the heat of good coffee come through a thick clay mug. This was different, _felt_ different, even the scenery was different.

Kun had never considered himself to be a fan of smoking, but he understood—why so many people were so enamored to it. The taste was addicting, lingered on your tongue and palate, that sweet nicotine that always went through their system—a lot of people couldn't get enough of it. It was like a drug, smoking could be the easiest getaway to calm your head down.

Sicheng smoked a lot. The way he flicked up his lighter so easily, dangling that familiar Marlboro Red stick against his mouth. He looked so serene, so tame. It was Sicheng's favorite brand. Marlboro offered different kinds of cigarettes, which included Marlboro Red and Marlboro Lights, arguably the two most popular in the lineup. Marlboro Red, in particular, was known for its rich tobacco taste and excellent burn, one reason why it was Sicheng's preferred choice.

"People aren't born good or bad. Maybe they're born with tendencies either way, but its the way you live your life that matters." Sicheng's voice filled the air, breaking the silence. Blowing smoke across the table at Kun's face. His self-satisfied smirk looked almost sickening, but his charming and attractive face made up for it. "I can learn to live with guilt. I don't care about being good."

Kun glanced at him, showing a stoic look, brows knitted together in confusion. He waved his glass of liquor absentmindedly against those smokes, noticing the other's smirk splitting up into a sneer. "A rock is harder than a feather, you can talk and jabber and make exceptions, but in the end, if you have to choose which one is gonna hit you on the head, you'll choose the feather every single time." Kun responded. "Most people are good and occasionally do something they know is bad. Some people are bad and struggle every day to keep it under control. Others are corrupt to the core and don't give a damn, as long as they don't get caught."

Sicheng chuckled. "I just think of things as beautiful or not. Can't you understand? I don't think of good or bad. Just of beautiful or ugly. I think a lot of nice things are ugly and a lot of nasty things are beautiful." He showed a feral smile.

It was like playing with fire; Kun knew it was dangerous. It could kill him even, something so ravenous and exhilirating that can reduce him to ashes. And yet, he found himself mesmerized by its beauty, the dancing light source that should've intimidated him, it somehow beckoned to him. Something about it—it was deathly alluring.

"Is that so?" Kun spoke monotonously. He couldn't let Sicheng knew that he felt bothered by his words and his annoyingly handsome face.

"There are some stuff that I want to keep all to myself," Sicheng confessed, letting the spray of ash fell from his cigarette. "Honestly, I really don't like to share my precious things."

"Mind giving me an example?"

" _You._ "

Kun nearly dropped his glass, his eyes widened for a moment before it went back to its former state. When Sicheng saw that, there was a bright glint of amusement all over his face.

"I like a lot of beautiful things. And I think you're the most beautiful of them all, _Kun Qian_."

Kun felt a little pang in his chest, so small he decided to ignore it. What was Sicheng's reason to be using his full name in that type of tone? He watched the man's eyes beamed, staring at Kun with that much of exuberant. It was so _fake_ , so sickening — Kun wanted to stab him in the eye.

Kun Qian was one of the many things that had caught Sicheng's attention in every possible way. But Kun was more special, he was _incomparable_ —Kun was more than just something Sicheng desired to posses. Those cold yet sweet looking eyes, that precious smile he rarely showed, those incisive words, and the way he always took things seriously. Kun was a honest guy with full of cruelty. He said what needed to be said, always clear about his objectives, and never did things half-assed.

Sicheng had always been admiring him from close and afar; he wanted him, crazy about him – the thoughts of someone else being too close with Kun never sat well with Sicheng. The latter would go absolutely havoc when that happened.

"What? Are you in love with me now or something?" Kun sneered, he was curious at what kind of game Sicheng was trying to pull.

" _I am,_ " Sicheng smiled, looking more genuine than the usual. "I have always been."

"You're insane." Kun rolled his eyes. "You know my objectives and purposes here."

"I'm nothing more than a mere of puppet for you, isn't that right?" Sicheng responded lightly. "I'm the key to your path of success after all."

"I'm glad you know that, at least." Kun tried not to click his tongue.

"Don't need to look so displeased," Sicheng snickered. "You need me as much as I need you. That's why we're here, and that's why _you're mine_."

Kun hated himself for not being able to say no to Sicheng. He really couldn't deny it.

* * *

Haven't you learned yet?

Someone had to be the villain so everyone else could stay alive. From the bad things and bad people, you learn the right way and right direction towards the successful life.

Kun leaned the left side of his body against the clear, glass windows—opening the curtains as he peered to look at every sway of footsteps passing through the busy road. His mind was blank, eyes heavy-lidded, and his hands were so fucking cold.

He sighed, turning his gaze over the soulless body on the bed. It was a woman, someone Sicheng had ordered to kill. The apartment room was already filled with that familiar, metallic scent. There was a lot of blood—overflowing from her neck, into her dress, and the carpet beneath her bed.

The eerie silence that took hold in that place made Kun felt the desire to turn on his current favorite music. He decided to pull and throw his gloves away, striding through the pool of blood on the ground as he walked in to the bathroom.

Kun ignored the ringing sound from his cellphone, he began fixing his gaze at the mirror—examining his face, to check whether the blood did splatter on his face or not. He let out a satisfied sigh when he saw nothing there. His hair was still styled, his glasses was still intact, and his skin was still as clean as he always remembered.

Suddenly, he heard a knock against the bathroom's door.

"Kun ge, what the fuck are you doing there?"

Kun clicked his tongue as he heard that familiar tone of voice. He hadn't even washed his hands yet. Kun rolled his eyes in silence before he walked out of the bathroom and back to the crime of the scene.

With a cigar dangling off his lips, Sicheng arched an eyebrow at Kun.

"Sicheng you better give me a bonus this month," Kun sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "This wasn't the deal I agreed to." It wasn't as if like Kun didn't have any desire to kill anybody—there's actually a lot of people he really wanted to kill. But he was planning to dine in one of the famous restaurants around the area at that moment, and Sicheng promised not to bother him on that day. What the hell was wrong with him? The guy could literally call anyone but Kun.

Did he though? No.

"Ge, you didn't tell me you're going to meet someone." Sicheng shot him a cold look.

Kun nearly facepalmed himself. "So? This isn't your business anyway. I told you I'll be back at seven."

"What do you mean? _You_ are my business." Sicheng puffed the cigar between his teeth, staring daggers at Kun's direction.

Kun sighed. It would be a lie that Kun hadn't seen this coming. Sicheng was a very territorial guy. When he couldn't get or have what he wanted, _actually_ there were two things he would do — Lashed out to hurt those around _him_ , or ordered someone out to hurt those around _them_.

He had no fear nor remorse. Never get on his bad side; because he's harsh and always willing to burst, when he's angry—he's uncontrollable. There were times when Kun viewed him as someone ignorant and mayhap too barbaric for his own likings, the man was too possessive and selfish.

_Sicheng's vision was turning red._

"Kun Qian," He said, an octave lower, throwing the paper tube on the ground as he stomped on it. Kun's eyes turning wide when he felt Sicheng's hand grabbing onto his soft, expensive looking necktie. Sicheng liked that expression — _that terror_. Sicheng pulled on it, fast and carelessly. Until he could feel the side of Kun's neck against the tip of his nose.

"This is a warning for you." Sicheng continued. He could feel the way Kun's body went rigid under his touch. Sicheng started brushing his lips over that soft skin, playful and teasingly.

"Sicheng!" Kun exclaimed, grabbing onto Sicheng's locks — yanking his head to the side. And Sicheng smirked at that, this was nothing more than a foreplay for him. Kun's expression turned into something more anxious – his composure broke apart. "I'm working!" He hissed.

Sicheng chuckled, pulling the older's hand away from his hair. It had always been sooo fun playing with Kun. "Are you willing to accept all of the consequences—if you dare to disobey me?"

"If you plan to kill me, then go ahead. I don't fucking care, Sicheng." Kun glared at him. "It's not like I didn't prepare myself for that day to come. I'm just a tool for you, something you can always replace anytime you want. I already accepted this fate of mine from the very beginning of my journey here."

There was a momentary flare of anger in Sicheng's face, his eyes were showing scarlet. Sicheng curled his palm into a ball of fist.

"Watch your fucking tone." He demanded. "Kun Qian, you belong to me. And I always protect those that are belong to me." Sicheng reached his fingers over Kun's chin, pulling the latter to step closer. "Also, it would be a very stupid move if I decided to kill the most precious being that I have."

"Precious? Since when did I become such a precious collection for you?" Kun sneered.

Sicheng laughed aloud. "Kun ge, as long as you're with me, you can always get everything that you want. Power, wealth, status. You can always have it all, I know you know."

 _He wasn't wrong_.

"Being with me isn't so bad after all, right?" Sicheng spoke, low and more skittish.

Kun Qian. His sweet, beautiful Kun Qian. The high and mighty — those glasses he always liked to wear so much barely hid anything at all. Sicheng stumbled forward, carefully picking up the glasses from Kun's features.

"Don't you dare." Kun stated, voice dangerous and threatening. "Don't you dare break that glasses."

Sicheng smirked, _why should I listen to you?_ And just like that, Sicheng began to crush the hinges and temples—calm and steadily, he saw the way Kun's expression changed into something more hateful. And Sicheng ignored that, only continued breaking the glasses; cracking the lenses apart until it broke into sharp pieces—Kun's expression changed again when he saw the sharp parts started pricking into Sicheng's skin.

"Sicheng! Stop! You're bleeding!" Kun exclaimed, which only earned him a simple laugh from Sicheng. When the latter tried to throw the broken glasses away, a few droplets touched against the surface of Kun's cheeks.

"Ah.." Sicheng saw that and felt somewhat apologetic. He didn't mean to dirty that beautiful face. Rough fingers started making its way toward Kun's features, brushing over the flawless skin. Sicheng bended down his face for a bit, until it's symmetrical and only a few inches apart from Kun's. And Sicheng noticed it, the way Kun suddenly held onto his breath. The latter's eyes were piercing right through him, and of course, like the hollow space— _it felt so freezing_.

Sicheng jerked Kun's face forward, licking the side of his cheekbones—tasting, brushing his tongue over the crimson droplets. At that point, Sicheng growled, deep and low and with an edge of warning. He pushed Kun against the wall, dark eyes glinting with that much of ferocity and control.

"Kun," Sicheng called his name. "I really don't know what kind of crazy things I will do when I get jealous."

The thrill within that voice. Despite sounding so calm, and so stable – this guy was honestly anything but _that_. The rationality in him was something distracting; it was not normal. This was a sign – a sign he was going insane.

Without giving Kun a chance to respond, Sicheng already slammed both of their mouths together. _Metallic_ , sort of like licking a copper pot, but warm and deep. If left in the open air long enough, it became sticky and effects the flavor. Sicheng's tongue was full of blood droplets, the taste — the consistency, it all tasted so clear. _How bittersweet_.

Sicheng was like a wildfire of rage. Nothing had ever been easy with him. Like a cageless animal without anything to hold him back. Always, _always_ forced himself to be in control. Of course he could be good, be tame. Sometimes he could be so gentle and understanding — then there were also times when he just quickly delved a knife right through his target's throat.

"I like you a lot." Sicheng grinned after he pulled apart, his bangs touching Kun's forehead. And Kun felt disgusted for thinking of how handsome Sicheng looked in that very moment.

Kun loathed how his chest twisted, as if the very corners of his mind were struggling to decipher exactly what was wrong and right. He could never understand this feeling within his heart. There wasn't a good explanation for it, and it made him feel sick, he wanted to force his guts out.

* * *

Sicheng didn't give Kun a chance to lock the door behind him, immediately stepping close and backing the older lad right up against the door with a bruising kiss. Sicheng could taste the initial surprise against his tongue, he groaned, seeping the taste of Kun's saliva on his mouth. Their breaths intermingled with one and another — Kun felt Sicheng's teeth starting scraping his lips.

"Bed," Kun groaned.

Sicheng snickered, turning his body around and carefully dragged Kun toward his king-sized bed.

He slammed the older man roughly onto the mattress. Kun made a little whine of appreciation, and tried to grab a few strands of Sicheng's hair, pressing him closer and harder, tongue licking on the cavern of his mouth as he quickly became addicted to the nicotine taste that had lingered on Sicheng's mouth for a long time. Sweet, sharp, natural, and dangerous. Kun shivered under the frictions, their bodies touching unbelievably close. Sicheng groaned and pulled away painfully when he felt Kun's teeth tugging harshly on his lip.

They were both quiet for a few moments. Sicheng was watching him with that burning look on his eyes, though Kun could feel something else seemed to be flickering in his expression beyond just the lit of the flames.

Kun gasped when Sicheng attacked his neck without warning, attaching his lips onto the column of his throat. His teeth dug in rather quickly, ignoring Kun's hiss of pain. Sicheng started grazing his teeth down to his collarbones, pressing his sharp points against the flesh. Kun groaned slowly as his hips twitched. Honestly biting wasn't his thing—but it was definitely Sicheng's. The latter licked the wounded spots there.

"I'll make you feel good," Sicheng spoke whilst his hand busy undoing Kun's trousers. The latter groaned with full of needs, pulling Sicheng closer, eyes completely glazed with hunger and desires. He looked almost too impatient.

Sicheng smiled wickedly at that, running his fingers around Kun's thigh, slowly spreading him wide on the mattress. Kun's eyes trembled with full of excitement, he watched the way Sicheng eyeing him, predatory and ready to fuck the daylights out of him. Kun let out a whine when he felt Sicheng's finger sliding into his entrance, smooth and slick, pressing firmly against the inside of his walls. Kun moaned, feeling that heating sensation overwhelmed his body.

Kun flinched slightly when he felt another digit puncturing into his entrance, shutting his eyes as he unconsciously tightened himself up around Sicheng's fingers. The burning intensity was rushing to his face. His body twitched when he felt Sicheng's fingers went deeper into his prostate, Kun groaned with a mix of pain and pleasure sinking into him.

Sicheng's fingers raking brutally against the sensitive spots inside of Kun's prostate, earning him a few mewls from the latter. Kun's legs were practically shaking against the hot frictions.

Tears began to form around his orbs and Sicheng grinned at that.

"Baby, you're crying already?" Sicheng's voice was low and unsettling. Kun trembled when he felt his tears were being kissed away by him. Kun didn't understand it either, how could he let Sicheng take control over him? He wasn't stupid or naive, and this wasn't the first time Kun let Sicheng get what he wanted.

Kun resented himself, did his mind play a trick on him? Had he gone crazy? It was like a mantra, someone had put a spell on him. No matter how many times he tried to look away, to be wary, to act like he didn't fucking care—Sicheng always managed to pull on that string, that tight string Kun wanted to secure so much. Sicheng was someone Kun could never avoid, his existence itself was something Kun couldn't resist for so long.

He let out a soft groan when Sicheng had finally pulled his fingers out.

Sicheng darted forward, his other free hand was reaching over Kun's chin. The latter nearly hissed when Sicheng's grip quickly harden between his cheekbones, practically trying to crush him. Dark, starry eyes glinting with power and control, tongue darting out to lick his own lips before brushing against Kun's. "Look at you, so beautiful and perfect." Sicheng husked against his face.

Without warning, Sicheng quickly flipped Kun's body, pulling on his hips in the process. Kun gulped in silence as he heard the sound of belt being unbuckled, his eyes quivering with full of anticipation. He could feel Sicheng's fingers digging against his hipbone, so hard that it was legitimately painful.

Kun felt Sicheng running the head of his member along his entrance, teasing him for a moment. Kun gasped, teeth gritting hard. Sicheng let out a low groan before he plunged deep inside his gut. Kun shut his eyes tight, his breaths were starting to get unsteady. He was hurting.

Kun bit on his lip as he felt Sicheng's breaths ghosting over his neck. The other's pelvis was pressing hard against Kun's ass as he finally managed to bury all the way inside of him. Grinding his own hips to move faster, deeper so that the length of his shaft could finally pressed against Kun's prostate in a certain spot. Kun was panting already, an electrifying sensation prickling along the skin of his trembling thighs and running down his arms.

He moaned in pain, feeling every little movements Sicheng had made. The man didn't give him any rest, he didn't even give Kun a chance to take a breather. Sicheng continued puncturing himself into Kun, "You hate not being in control, but look at you now," Sicheng yanked Kun by his hair, pulling the latter close until he could smell the familiar fragment lingering against Kun's jaw.

His voice was deep, low, and dangerous. Almost threatening. Kun let out an unstrained cry as the other bent over him, pushing into the older until his head nearly bumped against the headboard. Sicheng didn't give him the time to adjust to his pace and size. Kun curled his fingers into the bed linen as Sicheng shoved his shaft back in again.

Moans and pleas spilled from Kun's vocal chords, Sicheng continued rocking and sliding along his clenched walls, Kun's rim kept practically swallowing him whole—too smooth and easy. Their skins made a lot of snapping noises. Kun cling into the sheets for his dear life, those rough and forceful thrusts were just too good and paining for him.

Sicheng's pace was restless, his fingers clawing hard again Kun's hipbone. The man let out a growl as he kept fitting in his hard throbbing member deep inside Kun's prostate. Kun parted his lips a bit breathlessly, his arms were weakening, he could feel himself slipping at any moment now. Sicheng wasn't slowing down at all, he continued snapping back and pounding forward into Kun's abused walls.

He was like an animal in heat, even after everything he had done—it was still not enough for him and his own needs. Sicheng loomed against Kun's neck, inhaling and brushing his tongue over the latter's skin.

"You feel so fucking good," Sicheng growled, precum practically dripping off of his member as he pulled out before slamming back in. The bed creaked beneath them. Bedsheets sliding up and down under Kun's hands and knees. The room was filled with their desires to get a taste of each other. "Look at how obedient and submissive you are, it almost feels like your hole was made for my cock."

Kun groaned in pain when he felt Sicheng's fingertips scraping hard on his hips, his mouth watered—salivas streaming down to the surface of Sicheng's bed. His legs quivered as Sicheng continued entering him in a rough manner. _Fuck, it felt too much. It felt too good_.

The constant smack of Sicheng's pelvis, slamming into Kun's abused heat, fucking into him as he pleased. Kun mewled painfully, his voice started cracking as he moaned between breaths. The deep grunts and low groans escaped from the inside of Sicheng's throat, the loud creaking noise that was made from the bed, only then to be slammed in all over again.

Kun was practically sinking into the depth of ecstasy and euphoria.

"Kun ge, I'll be very troubled if you underestimate my obsession for you." Sicheng whispered behind his earlobe.


End file.
